SelfExplanatory
by Azrael's Addiction
Summary: A cliche night spent in an overly warm Gryffindor common room. RLSB


**Self-Explanatory**

* * *

Sirius was staring again. I could feel it. Pale, deep eyes that seared into my skin and made me feel hot enough to boil. In fact I think I am boiling. My fingers pry into my tie to loosen it down around my chest. Sirius still stares.

I am reading—was reading—a book next to the fire. My feet were cold so I curled them underneath me and sunk back into the overstuffed couch across from Sirius' chair. It is well past two in the morning and all the other students have long gone to bed.

I stayed down here so I could finish my novel without bothering the others. I think Sirius might have just stayed down here to bother me. Initially he attempted to pry me from my book by all sorts of means--including, but not limited to, jumping in my lap, pouring a basin of cold water down my front, turning into Padfoot and licking my face--but now he's settled on non-verbal annoyances.

His newest intimidation tactic is to stare at me. Blatantly. While I'm trying to focus on something else. Even when I turn to look at him he staring.

Sometimes it is accompanied with a wry smile—a little twist of his lips that says, "you're ridiculous, Moony."

Sometimes he's gaping. Just a little bit. A small parting of the lips that allows me to see the gleam of white teeth. It's a look that makes my insides flare uncomfortably and I'm forced to focus my attention somewhere--_anywhere_--else. This always makes me a little concerned; I always wipe at my face to dislodge whatever might cause him to stare openly.

And sometimes the bloke stares with a look that I can't quite decipher, but ultimately like. It's the same tingles. Same excitement, just better placed.

Now, Sirius isn't terribly difficult to read. Sirius once informed me that I was like a book written in another language upside-down and in word-find form. If that's true, and we are adhering to literary analogy, then Sirius is the back cover of a book where the summary lies. He's terribly easy to read.

That being said, I cannot—I said, _cannot_—decipher any possible reason (other than food items attached to my bottom lip) that would cause Sirius to stare at me so frequently.

If I'm being kind to myself, which—let's face it—is never a reality given my circumstances, I would like to think that Sirius stares at me because he finds me appealing. Or at the very least amiable to look at for extended periods of time.

More likely or not, he's plotting something sinister and needs my help but doesn't quite know how to ask me. That's Sirius, for you. I can't help but think fondly of him, though at every turn he's landing me in detention, every other word is blasphemy. I suppose that's what makes him endearing and unobtainable. Or perhaps he's endearing because he loves so loyally, but not the way he could...

Which shouldn't be disappointing at all. And it isn't. So long as I press my nose firmly between the pages of Dostoevsky or Shakespeare, I can manage. I always have.

_The course of true love never did run smooth..._

But there is that staring again. I can see him out of the corner of my eyes, staring staring staring so intently I'm afraid that his eyeballs are going to pop right out of his sockets and roll across the floor, forcing me to retrieve them and jam them back into his head where they belong.

I can smell him, too. He's slightly musky, given the heat radiating from an over-enthusiastic fire and the wool blanket he's thrown over his knees. He's breathing heavily through his nose and mouth, alternatively. It's not quite a pant, it's rare to hear Sirius Black pant, but it is a heaving sort of inhalation and shaky exhalation.

He really should remove himself from that blanket, otherwise I'm afraid he might have a heatstroke. He looks slightly flushed. Perhaps he should go upstairs...

I look up and catch my eyes on his. His expression doesn't change. Sirius has always been like that: blunt and unapologetic. I suppose that's the most appealing thing about him.

"Padfoot, are you quite alright?"

"Fine, Moony," he breathes and my toes curl underneath me, "Why?"

"You're behaving oddly."

Sirius chuckles and turns his attention to the fire. "It's a bit hot in here, innit?"

"Indeed." I consider telling him he's probably hot because of his blanket and jumper, but that might have a double-entendre of which I'm not aware.

He looks up to me with his most devilish, lecherous, and devious grin, "Mind if I put out the fire?" He's already got his wand out.

I sigh heavily. "I won't be able to read without the light..."

Sirius smirks. "Good."

And then we're submerged in black.

In only takes a minute for my eyes to adjust, the pupils to focus, and my vision to acclimate. It's a misconception that werewolves have better vision. Or, at least, I think it is. As far as I can gather, my vision is only slightly faster to adjust, slightly sharper. But again, I don't remember much about myself before I was bitten.

Sirius' pupils are still blown out so that only a ring of light gray surrounds the pupil. I chuckle at him and he blindly searches the dark common room for me.

"Where are you?" He blindly waves his arms in front of him and staggers forward.

Apparently my vision is leaps and bounds beyond Sirius', at the very least. I rise to touch his shoulder lightly. "Right here."

He grabs onto my shoulders with both hands and grins. He's staring straight into my face, but I can tell he still cannot see. "Gotcha."

"So now that you've sufficiently blinded yourself, what are we supposed to do? Sit in the dark?"

Sirius snorts. "You're such a girl sometimes, Remus."

I make a hyperboled gasp of hurt. "Am not!"

Sirius pushes me and I fall back into the couch. My knees fling up and I don't have enough dexterity to stand again. "Are too, Moony." He leers over me and I'm beginning to think he's adjusting to the dark. "I just pushed you over with my pinky finger."

I snatch his tie and yank him down with the intention of forcing him to the other side of the couch. But he jerks to regain his footing and flops heavily down on me instead. His knee hits my stomach soundly and knocks the breath out of my lungs. "Oof."

He laughs manically and eases his knee out of my stomach. "Nice try, Moony, but your efforts prove counter-productive. Now I've gotcha pinned."

"Do you?"

"I do."

I jerk upwards and we tumble to the floor together, this time I finish with the upper hand. "Now you don't."

Sirius laughs again and goes limp beneath me, a sign of defeat I take it. I try to stand back up, but Sirius has landed on one of my hands and I cannot move.

"I need that back if you don't mind."

He grins and grinds down on my hand with his shoulder blade. I can see a slash of moonlight shimmer over his teeth. I find myself momentarily forgetting how to breathe. "Detained, Moony."

Suddenly his face goes serious and he's peering up at me with the utmost fixation. I squirm uncomfortably and make a genuine effort to get away, but he catches my wrist and pulls me firmly back down.

And next thing I know, he's crushing his lips against mine.

Merlin, are they soft...

And I'm so surprised, so completely beside myself with shock that I go completely stiff and rigid and his lips are taut--it feels as if he's putting the world behind this kiss--but they open and his tongue is press-press-pressing against my lips and my mind completely goes blank.

But Sirius is persistent, and he seizes my head with desperate fingers that pull me closer and closer until my brain finally catches up with an "Oh" and a "Right then" and my mouth goes soft and open to let Sirius' warm tongue in.

And he sighs with contentment, or at least I think it's contentment, quite honestly I'm a little preoccupied with the Sirius pressed against me and his tongue inside my mouth. A tongue I'm not entirely sure what to do with. I've snogged a few girls before, but I don't recall feeling at such a loss...I don't remember feeling as if I didn't do this right everything would end.

Oh but Sirius is doing some lovely things with his tongue and teeth and hands and I can't seem to do anything besides imitate pudding.

Sirius pulls back, panting and heaving and I can't help but wonder what the hell he's thinking about to make him blush like that because Sirius never blushes.

And I must look like I've been hit by a hippogriff because Sirius stares up at me and worries his lip. I'm still hovering over him with my hand going numb beneath his back and I'm just speechless.

"Remus?"

"Yes, Sirius?" I'm an idiot. I really am.

"I can't see your bloody face. What the hell are you doing up there?"

I deliberate for a moment before laughing quietly. "That's what you choose to ask me at this moment? I think I have a few questions for you myself…"

"Oh, yeah, well…it's kinda self-explanatory, innit?"

I laugh again and though I'm an idiot, I can't help but feel happy. "Yes, I suppose it was."

"And you…?"

I press my hips against his firmly, shocked at my own confidence. The things that boy does to me. "It's kinda self-explanatory, innit?"

* * *

_Author's Note: Goodness, I seem to be writing a great deal of these silly little burlesque scenes. But I don't think anyone's complaining, so I'll just go about doing what I do best.  
_

_Believe it or not, this is more or less how my current lover and I got together. More or less._

_I'm working on a chapter story right now, but these little vignettes will have to tide you over for now.  
_


End file.
